


Hinges and Locks

by DwarvenBeardSpores



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, Canon Compliant, Comfort, Conversations, Crisis of Faith, Crisis of Legs, Episode 57: Locksmith Lockdown, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love, Missing Scene, canon-typical references to lost body parts, hunger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25807474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DwarvenBeardSpores/pseuds/DwarvenBeardSpores
Summary: "Actually, Sasha?" He's gone quieter, all of a sudden. "If I… if I talk to you, would you just. Have a conversation with me? Not talk over me, or be all eerie and silent but just… a conversation.""Are you sure you don't want me to get Hamid?" Sasha blurts. "He's loads better at the, the talking and the words and--""No." Zolf presses a hand to his face. "If you don't want to, that's fine, but please don't. I've heard what Hamid has to say.""Right," Sasha says, and proceeds to stumble all over her mouth agreeing.
Relationships: Sasha Racket & Zolf Smith
Comments: 22
Kudos: 75





	Hinges and Locks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HoloXam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoloXam/gifts).



> This takes place in the middle of episode 57, when Zolf and then Sasha are keeping watch in a locksmith's shop. I was very excited to find a place for this scene to slot into canon, as I was fully prepared to just say "okay but what if they HAD made time for this conversation" and leave it at that.
> 
> Holo I love you and I'm enjoying our relisten so much. I care these two awkward friends who are so full of love, and you're right, they ABSOLUTELY need to hug.

When Sasha takes over second watch, Zolf mutters something about getting some rest and sets himself up against one bare wall of the locksmith's shop, just under a lovely display of chains. It's a shame. Sasha won't be able to slip any of them into her bag of holding while he's there. Chains jingle, and Zolf doesn't sleep nearly as heavy as Bertie, or even Hamid.

But Sasha's keeping watch, and she's good at it. So she notices that he doesn't actually sleep. Notices the heavy sighs and the frustrated tapping of his fingers on his thigh.

She does one more sweep of the perimeter and another check on the captured gnomes and Wilde before joining him. She's not trying to be sneaky. In fact, she's deliberately trying _not_ to be sneaky, which earns her a bitter _"what._ " from Zolf as she approaches.

"You here to tell me to cheer up too?" He doesn't turn to look at her. Just keeps leaning against the wall, staring into a corner. She thinks he might've been crying, but it's not like Sasha's gonna bring that up. She's not gonna bring up his new watery legs, either, or the way he's thrown a blanket over them to keep them hidden.

"No," she says. "No, I just-- saw you were awake, and thought I'd come over here and- and just, sit, y'know? An' I don't think it'd go that well, me tryin' to cheer you up. I'm not feeling particularly cheery myself." 

Zolf makes a noncommittal grunting noise and slumps somehow deeper into the wall. What Sasha said, it's true, but it's not entirely true, cause she really is worried. But like, if Hamid and all his fancy words can't help, she's not gonna be able to say anything that'd make him feel better either. She sits against the wall, a good meter away from him, and pulls her knees into her chest. 

"An' I wanted to say I'm sorry," she says. "That I couldn't find any food. If it was Other London, right, I'd know where to go, but I haven't been here long enough to find the really secret places, and all the ones out in the open have been hit already. An' it's gone a lot faster than I expected, but one of those nights I should've spent some time--"

"Sasha," Zolf says. "Don't. It's-- it's fine."

It's not fine, and Zolf doesn't look fine, and some food would _definitely_ help, but Sasha isn't keen to argue. She pulls a padlock off a nearby shelf and gets to work unlocking it _. Click._ She locks it and goes again. _Click._ She's hungry too. She's hungry, and Zolf is sad, and people in Paris are being hurt, and Brock is… gone. Proper gone. And she just wishes… she doesn't even know, at this point.

"If we had a gyrocopter we could get out of here," she mutters into her knees.

Zolf doesn't answer. Doesn't say anything for several minutes. She watches him sideways out the corner of her eyes, and he doesn't move much. She grabs a second lock and scoots a little bit closer. Just a little. Just in case she needs to stab something that's going for him, or something.

"How was the Paris… stuff?" he asks. "Out doing a vigilante and everything?"

"It was alright," she says. "Helped people." Not enough people. Not without getting proper exhausted in a way that makes her bones feel heavy even now. And she couldn't help Oscar Wilde while he was _right there_ , so...

"Right. Yeah, that's. Good."

Good. The second lock is trickier than the first.

She hears Zolf gearing himself up for it before he speaks, taking a few breaths, trying to steady his breathing. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, 'course."

"Does Bertie still have that book he was reading?"

"Yeah," she says. "The passion one. He put it in his bag on the way out of the hotel."

Zolf makes a noise that sounds vaguely relieved. "Could you… could you get it for me?" 

"What, like steal it? Yeah, it'd be dead easy. It's _Bertie._ "

"Whatever-- however you want to do it. I just-- I can't ask him. Right now."

"Yeah, I got you, Zolf." Sasha's spent loads of time thinking about the best ways to steal from Bertie, mostly cause there's so many options. Like, she could probably point and say "look over there" and be off with half his armor before he noticed. "You want it now, or--"

"Whenever. Maybe just. Before we get moving again?" 

"Sure thing, boss." She's glad he's asking. She's not quite sure how the book's gonna help right now, but it sounds like it is, and Bertie had said it was real literature so maybe it's got like, answers to Zolf's big questions in it. Either way. She'll get it.

"Actually, Sasha?" He's gone quieter, all of a sudden. "If I… if I talk to you, would you just. Have a conversation with me? Not talk over me, or be all eerie and silent but just… a conversation."

"Are you sure you don't want me to get Hamid?" Sasha blurts. "He's loads better at the, the talking and the words and--"

" _No._ " Zolf presses a hand to his face. "If you don't want to, that's fine, but please don't. I've heard what Hamid has to say."

"Right," Sasha says, and proceeds to stumble all over her mouth agreeing. 

Zolf gets the idea, though. He turns around so he's still leaning against the wall, but he's staring at the ground in front of Sasha instead of the corner. She can see his face now. See the effects of his not sleeping. Can't blame him, really. She moves just a little bit closer.

"People are acting like the legs are this great thing," Zolf says. "That they're a sign Poseidon likes me again or something, and oh, they're cool and magical, that _must_ be good." He groans. "I didn't ask for them. I _asked_ if it was okay if I used the ones we took from Mr. Ceiling. I don't _want_ these." 

"And you can't get rid of 'em." Sasha says.

"No! I can't! And when these appeared they just. Replaced the ports so even if I _wanted_ the metal ones, well, I'm out of luck now aren't I?"

Sasha is beginning to get what the problem is. "You wanted advice," she says. "An' your god went and made the choice for you."

"Yes! And _I'm_ the one that's got to live with them, and _I'm_ the one that's going to have to deal if he decides to take them away again if I don't, I dunno, use them right?" Zolf gestures sharply at the legs, which haven't even started soaking through the blanket. "You saw in Dover, I don't know how to be a cleric, I don't know how to do what he wants, and if I piss him off again--" He throws up his arm, the one that's not pressed into the wall. "Well then _fuck me,_ I guess."

"An' he might use them to listen in," Sasha adds helpfully. "Unless he can do that already, being a god and all. But like, if you were in somewhere where there just wasn't any water--" 

"What."

"Like Barat does," Sasha explains. "I mean, he doesn't give people legs. But he gives 'em rings, right, and it's not a present, a-and then he tells you to go live somewhere real nice, where you don't want to live and that's not a present _either,_ and he can stop it any time and he can listen in with the ring, and the only present is the one you give yourself by chopping the finger off because it's not _your_ finger anymore."

 _Click_ goes the second lock. She locks it and goes again.

Zolf rubs his face. "Sasha, that's. Look, I'm sorry that happened, it sounds-- bad, but what. What am I supposed to do with--" 

"They're not _your_ legs anymore. An' I don't mean cause they're not meat, like, you lost the pegleg too. I mean cause they're not _yours._ "

Zolf sits there, mid sentence, for a good few breaths. Then he says "oh." Then he says "yeah. Yeah, that's. Yeah." and trails off into silence.

"Are you gonna cry?" Sasha asks.

"No," Zolf says, his voice thick. "No, I'm not crying, I'm _done_ with crying."

"Alright," Sasha says. "Cause it's just… if you were, and you, like, didn't want anyone to see you, I could, y'know, get right up in front of you and kind of, block your face with my body and my arms and, and nobody would be able to tell, I mean. Yeah."

Zolf glances at Hamid and Bertie and Wilde and the gnomes, who are very much not awake. He narrows watery eyes at her. "Was that just you asking if you could hug me?" 

"No!" Sasha says, and she knows it's too quick but it's out of her mouth before she can stop it and make it be more subtle. "That is, I mean, definitely not. But… I _could_ hug you, if, if you wanted."

"You don't hug much," Zolf says.

"Nope."

"Alright then." And to Sasha's surprise, he shuffles a little closer.

Sasha _really_ doesn't hug much. She's not quite sure why she even offered, but the past few days she's felt… weird. Like a door hanging half off its hinges, or ball bearings that don't know which way they're supposed to roll because they've forgotten how gravity works. So this… it can't hurt, right? She tucks both locks in her jacket, subtle so Zolf won't notice, and scoots the rest of the way in to wrap her arms around Zolf's shoulders. For all that he's falling apart, he's solid in her arms, and it's… it's good. One of his arms wraps around her torso, and she tenses a little, but he doesn't get too close to any of her daggers or to the big aching falcon scar, so she lets it happen.

He leans his head on her shoulder. 

There's a good few seconds where Sasha doesn't breathe and Zolf doesn't move. Enough time for Sasha to feel like neither of them are getting anything out of this. How do people hug, anyway? Then Zolf shifts against her, says, "and I thought Poseidon was about, like, giving people what they deserve?" and it doesn't feel quite so awkward anymore.

Sasha readjusts her arms around him. "Yeah, that's what you said. WIth, with the buckets and all."

"Right." He sniffs. "And I look out at Paris, and I see that we did something bad. Maybe we thought we were doing good but… but people are hurt, and they're dying, and that was us." 

And the brains aren't there anymore. Brock's brain isn't there anymore, even if it wasn't totally him to begin with.

Sasha leans her cheek against the top of Zolf's head. She can feel his voice, and hear it, as he keeps talking.

"And then Poseidon gives me these… these _things_ . And either they're a punishment, like you said, dressed up as a gift, or they're _actually_ a gift, which honestly might be worse."

"How much worse?" Sasha asks. 

"I don't-- I don't know." He takes a shaky breath. "If I'm being rewarded for doing something _I know_ was wrong… I mean, what am I supposed to do with that?" 

Sasha shrugs and holds him tighter.

She doesn't know what to do either. She can't help Zolf, and she can't help Paris, and she doesn't even know what it'd take to help herself. She doesn't say that, though. What she says is, "you know, people don't get what they deserve, Zolf. They really don't."

He's quiet.

"I mean, it's a nice idea and all, an' I think I get why you like it, but things don't turn out like that. Not really. Depends way more on like, if you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, an' what it is people want from you." Depends on who wants your brain and thinks the rest of you is disposable. 

Zolf huffs against her jacket. "It's an _ideal,_ Sasha, it-- I know it won't just _happen_. People need to work for it and-- and I used to think it was worth working for."

"An' now?" 

Zolf doesn't answer. Just keeps a hold of her.

"I used to think it was pointless," she says.

Zolf doesn't ask the question he just dodged answering. Good. Cause Sasha doesn't have an answer either.

"Can I tell you a secret, Zolf?" she says instead. This isn't like her either. Maybe that's one advantage to hugging people. They don't have to see your face when you're holding them.

"Yeah?"

"I've got a set of dice," she tells him. She almost doesn't recognize her voice. "They're red. Had 'em for ages. They're loaded. I use 'em to cheat, cause I can always know how they're gonna come up."

Zolf answers with a guarded, "okay?" 

Sasha closes her eyes. "Yeah."

"Is that… supposed to be making a point, or something?"

"What? No. It's-- it's a secret. You're the only one who knows, now."

"Oh," Zolf says.

"I just… I thought someone should. Don't-- don't let it get around, okay?"

Zolf thinks it over. "Right," he says. Then, a few moments later, "Sasha, are you-- are you okay?"

"No," she says, and it comes out too easy, a lock she hasn't reset fast enough. And suddenly the hug is unbearable, too hot, too close, his beard prickling at her stomach. Too much. She lets go, pulling herself away, and Zolf lets her go. "I should-- I'm still on watch, I should-- I should check again an' make sure nobody's-- there's the windows and things an'--"

"Yeah," Zolf says, clears his throat. "Yeah, that's... Sasha, wait."

She stops, halfway to standing. "I didn't take the locks," she blurts.

"What? No, I--" he sighs. "I know I'm not great at any of this. But if you want to… to have a conversation about it, I'll try and keep my baggage to myself."

Sasha blinks at him. She shouldn't have mentioned the locks, then. "I just did," she says. At least he hasn't told her to put them back.

He squints, runs a hand through his hair. "Oh," he says. " _Oh."_

"Yeah. An' thanks, Zolf."

"Right."

For a moment they just look at each other. For a moment, Sasha almost thinks about going back and hugging him some more. But no. No, she's gotta get back on watch, and Zolf's gotta get to sleep, if he can.

"I'll-- I'll get that book for you," she says, half as a reminder to herself. "Don't worry. Just-- I'm gonna check things out first."

He gives her half a smile. "Thanks, Sasha."

She nods and does another sweep of the shop, the windows. Takes her time at it. Eyes the fancier locks. Keeps her distance. Keeps watch. Nicks the book, which was as easy as she thought it'd be, and drops it off in Zolf's bag. She feels a little bit better, like the ball bearings have remembered about gravity.

Eventually, Zolf sleeps.

Eventually, Sasha sits cross-legged on the counter, an array of locks spread before her, and makes a game of unlocking them quick. She wins every time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you thought. I can also be found on tumblr as dwarven-beard-spores, and twitter as @beardspores. 
> 
> Take care everyone <3


End file.
